


Blue Shuttered Windows

by OwlosaurusRex



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Annie as the 'bad guy', F/M, M/M, Sad, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-23
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-01-16 17:16:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1355383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OwlosaurusRex/pseuds/OwlosaurusRex
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One leaky ceiling takes a man trapped in an abusive relationship and introduces him to a life worth living. Bertholdt never would have thought a simple contractor could show him what it feels like to truly be loved. Yet even the greatest things in life are often short-lived.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Lists were a man’s best friend. At least that’s how Bertholdt had come to see them. Having everything laid out for him provided much needed goals and motivation and there was nothing quite as satisfying as checking off each item one by one throughout the day. While the buzz of the city clamored around him with the smell of rain and thick clouds of exhaust he could lose himself for a few moments in the blissful knowledge that he had accomplished something.

The list was short today and Bertholdt might have felt disappointed if not for the final point hastily written and circled in red pen.  Annie’s call had been so sudden the night before that he had been on the verge of panic but now, in the cool evening air and even colder rain, he looked at the list clasped between wet fingers and felt alive. He was in control and he had every intention of making this the most wonderful night Annie had ever had. A certain giddiness bubbled up inside of him and he became painfully aware of his foolish grinning. Folding the list carefully he tucked it away in his coat pocket to avoid the rain smudging his confidence. The last two months might have been a struggle but today, today he was going to prove that everything was going to be all right.

The street lights were flickering to life by the time Bertholdt found his street among the asphalt maze of the city, the pale yellow light shimmering on the waterlogged cityscape. Nights like this almost made Bert forget about the garbage clogging the drains and the boarded windows of the buildings he passed. Rainy nights always made him think of home. He’d always enjoyed dodging the puddles and cracks in the sidewalk as he followed his mother through the quiet town, clutching the hem of her dress when she wandered too far ahead. Even the earthy smell, tainted by the stench of gorged dumpsters abandoned here and there along the street, brought thoughts of lazy afternoons at the park or sitting under the oak tree in the yard. It seemed like a lifetime ago, now. A lifetime ago and a world away.

By the time his apartment complex came into view his coat was plastered to his body and rain drizzled down his face, kissing his eyes and trying to blur the hazy brick building. If he looked at it like this, it didn’t seem so bad. If he looked long enough he could almost see the screen door hanging askance like it always did, and the shutters his mother insisted he paint blue every summer. But he wiped the rain away on his sleeve and mounted the steps two at a time to huddle under the ratty old overhang. Bert juggled his bags, set one down by his feet and tucked the bouquet of flowers in the crook of his arm while he dug in his pocket for his keys. The old light buzzed above the door, its glass cloudy with years of neglect and polluted city air and casting an unhealthy light around him. Most of his keys were useless now, from old homes and old lives he’d long left behind but he couldn’t quite bring himself to part with them. Finding the one he was looking for he jiggled the locks open and reached down for his bag. The wet paper threatened to tear and he nearly dropped the bouquet of lilies he’d been struggling to keep alive in the blustery rain.

There was a moment of frenzied panic, the sound of wet paper shredding and the click of the door swinging shut in his moment of greatest peril. The bag fell with a wet sound, its contents shifting with resounding clinks and clatters that could have been bomb shells bursting and the soggy bundle started to list precariously. His short life flashed before his eyes and he kicked a foot out to catch the dissolving bag, nudging it upright again while trying not to smash the delicate pink flowers in his excitement. If there was a God then please let the wine be all right. He cursed under his breath, crouching down in the insistent rain and carefully tucking the bouquet in the quickly deteriorating bag, all the while praying the bottom would hold as he hugged it to his chest. He found his key again, fought a fierce battle with the door and, vanquishing it, swung it open wide to duck inside.

The hall was as dark as ever, narrow, cramped, and smelling of mold though Bertholdt couldn’t help but feel relieved to be inside. He tripped on the loose carpeting as he always did, caught himself on the banister and took the creaking steps up to the top floor. Small sconces glowed at odd intervals on the walls, dim sentinels to lead the weary souls that lived here. Reaching his floor he stepped over the loose board he knew was there though he couldn’t see it in the gloom and gave room 301 a wide birth. His neighbors weren’t ‘bad’ in a strict sense of the word but it was very difficult to hear the crying children and yelling parents. It was something he had had to grow accustom to, living in this kind of place, yet, despite the poor neighborhood, he had been lucky to find an affordable apartment that wasn’t falling apart at the seams or reeking of illegal pastimes. He only hoped the arguing next door didn’t escalate, for the children’s sake if nothing else.

Again he wrestled with his keys and the sticky locks, giving his door a kick before it finally opened and he could breathe a sigh of relief. Even if it wasn’t perfect it was home and home had always brought him comfort, no matter where it was. He stumbled into the dark room, feeling out the table and carefully depositing his wet groceries before groping at the wall for the light switch. A moment later and light filled the room. Small, cluttered with a kitchen table at one end and a loveseat and coffee table at the other, it met his needs and that was all he cared about. Two steps and he was in the kitchenette, shrugging off his sopping coat and glancing at his watch anxiously. 6:45 pm.

He nearly dropped his coat. He had a little over an hour in which to make dinner, change his clothes, and make the place at least partly presentable. Panic started to well up inside of him again and he looked around helplessly for a few moments before settling his attention on the flowers. The pink lilies glistened with lingering rain and their soft fragrance offered a taste of calm he desperately needed. Bertholdt took in deep breaths, hung his dripping coat on a hook beside the cupboards and removed a vase from on top of the refrigerator. It was a tall, delicate blue vase, simple, old, his mother’s favorite and he smiled to himself as he filled it with water and nestled the bouquet inside. The pink flowers had been a last minute decision. He’d written roses on his list and had had every intention of fulfilling his goal but the florist had sold their stock of roses to a wedding party just the day before. Lilies weren’t so bad, he told himself, stroking a long pink petal and hoping that Annie might forgive him this minor variance. It was only once and next time he would make proper arrangements for her. She deserved only the best, after all.

 

* * *

 

 

The table was set. Bertholdt had placed everything with a fine precision from the candles to the silverware and the vase of flowers still taunting him with hints of fragility and love. That’s what flowers were right? Love.

He’d lit the candles at one point, watched the wax ooze and congeal over the silver candle sticks with the passing hours and had ultimately snuffed them out with the weight of his dejected sighs. He checked his phone, the screen casting an eerie glow over the cold meal on the table and glinting on untouched silverware. 11:30 pm. He scrolled through his message, searched for missed calls, emails, anything and entertained for a moment the terrifying notion that something bad had happened. Wouldn’t she have called if something had come up? Maybe she’d gotten into trouble on the way over. It got dark so early when it rained and the city was not a good place and- dammit he should have insisted on picking her up! If anything had gone wrong he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself, he couldn’t.

He started to grow frantic and could feel a nervous sweat prickling at the back of his neck but as quickly as the panic had set in it started to fade. But Annie wouldn’t get herself into any kind of trouble. Not his Annie. She was far too strong, and certainly too stubborn, for that. That’s right, she probably just got caught up in the studio again. Annie was always working so hard, of course she forgot about some things but how could he hold that against her? He couldn’t. She HAD called him about this, though, and…

Bertholdt retrieved his list from his damp coat pocket and set his phone aside in favor of unfolding it. The paper had long since dried and crinkled at his touch as he flattened it out as best he could. The last point for the day:

  *          Date with Annie at 8 pm.



Of course he had expected some small amount of delay considering how busy Annie often got but…

He picked up his phone again. 11:34 pm. The numbers mocked him, set against the background photo they’d taken two years previously with Annie’s fragile little smile and the glow of Christmas lights. How quickly things changed. He set the phone aside again and stared down at his hands. No amount of completed checklists could bring him the satisfaction of seeing her smile again and no number of flowers, letters, or acts of kindness could bring her closer. The realization closed around him like a vice and he crushed the list in his hand. She wasn’t coming. Again. He gripped the paper tighter and tighter until he felt the stiff edges bite at his palm.

He wasn’t sure how long he sat there but eventually his fingers loosened and the crumpled list fell to the table, laid to rest beside the wine and weeping flowers. Shit happens. He had to remind himself that every now and again but there really wasn’t any use getting worked up over it, right?

“Right.” He sighed the word into the silence of his little home. He listened to the sounds of the storm outside, the thunder had come and gone as did the wind rising and falling as it battered the old building and weathered him away. Closing his eyes he lost himself in the tranquility he convinced himself came from solidarity. This silence couldn’t be found anywhere else in this city or in this world. This was the silence of his life and it was just as important as anything else he held dear. Yet there was something off tonight.

He tried to lose himself to the muffled sound of rain and wind but every few seconds something faltered; a slow, steady thump, a loathsome dripping that agitated the balance. The more he tried to ignore it the more it angered him and it only seemed to grow louder with the passing moments until he couldn’t take it any longer. He pushed away from the table with more force than he had intended, his chair clattering against the wall behind him noisily. All he had wanted in lieu of a relaxing dinner was silence and he wasn’t allowed even that.

He stalked from the kitchen sink to the bathroom but all of the faucets were in order. Listening closely he could hear the taunting drip from deeper in the apartment and stared down the short hall to the bedrooms. That wasn’t good. Bertholdt could already sense the looming problem even as he stepped down the hall. It wasn’t the guest bedroom, of course it wasn’t the guest bedroom, why would it be anything but _his_ bedroom? Opening the door he stood and watched the steady drip of rainwater from his ceiling. A puddle was already forming and spreading beneath his carpet while the leak in the ceiling bled through the plaster in varying shades of brown and yellow. For a while Bertholdt just watched, defeated. He’d been watching the stain on his ceiling for weeks now, had reminded himself time and time again to talk with his landlady and yet here he was watching the carpet lift from the floor with the growing flood of his regrets.

Retreating back to the kitchen he made short work of scraping the cold left overs into plastic containers and grabbing a pan to take care of his soon to be musty carpet. By the time he found himself in bed it was past midnight, a whole new day punctuated by the metallic thunk of heavy drops landing in the pan.

Reaching down under his bed he retrieved a small worn shoe box, opening it and staring down at his collections of lists. Each was dated, cataloguing his accomplishments for months now. He couldn’t remember exactly when it had become so routine- well he could look at the earliest list and see when- but it was such a comforting habit now he didn’t question it. Flipping through the various notecards he searched for any indication that he had remembered about the leak but with each steady drop he became increasingly aware that he had let it slip his mind too many times. It was no use, he would just have to call in the morning and see if there was some kind of fix that wouldn’t be too costly. He couldn’t afford to have the whole place torn to bits. What would Annie think then?

Picking a fresh notecard from the box he rummaged about in the drawer of his nightstand for a pen and with a reassuring sense of purpose he started his list for the next day:

  *          Fix leaky ceiling.



He smiled at the seemingly monumental task made to look simple in his hasty scrawl. Certainly this couldn’t be checked off in one day but just writing it down made it seem far more doable. With that he set his note aside, returned his box to its place beneath the bed, and laid back, wondering if sleep were possible with such an oppressive presence in his life. The dripping, though irritating, distracting, and damaging with its loudness, had a certain captivating quality. Hypnotizing, maybe, and soon the steady rhythm had him sleeping for once not cloaked in silence but lulled by sound. Even the oppressive could be beneficial.


	2. Chapter 2.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter Reiner Braun in a drowning city where one leaky ceiling should be the least of his problems. Right?

_Greet each day with optimism. Good things come to those who wait._

Yeah, all right. But no amount of optimism is going to keep that alarm from going off in five minutes. Four snoozes after the initial assault and Reiner still couldn’t bring himself to leave the toasty warmth of his bed. He nestled down deeper in the bulky mound of his comforter and stared up at the old poster somehow still clinging to his ceiling after two long years. It was like any other motivational poster, though its bright colors and cheery message were faded and the corners curled in on itself more and more with each passing month. One of these days he was certain it was going to fall on his face in the middle of the night and scare him half to death but such was the price of optimism.

“Why the hell did I put you up there anyway? You’re just lucky I’m too lazy to take you down.” He said, groaning as his alarm chimed in as if in response to his bitching. He pulled the comforter up over his head like a child and tried to burrow under his pillows. From somewhere within the apartment he could hear the sudden stomp of feet and Jean’s voice growing louder with rage.

“I swear to fucking God, Reiner! Hit snooze one more time and I’m going to smash that thing over your fucking head. GET UP ALREADY!” His words were punctuated by his banging on the door.

Reiner laughed, peeking out from under the covers and reaching an arm out for the screeching device. “Yeah, yeah, you’re all talk. I’m getting up, I’m getting up.” He called, his voice muddled by a wide yawn.

“Jesus. That’s been going off all morning. SOME of us have stuff to get done.” Jean’s grumbling gradually calmed and grew distant as his footsteps faded away and Reiner was left in the quiet of a cool spring morning.

From where he lay he could hear the rain pattering against his window and could practically see the long list of jobs piling up around him. With all of this spring rain there had been numerous cases of flooding and various kinds of water damage that kept his employees scampering about like decapitated chickens, pulling up carpeting, installing sump pumps, and spraying for mold. He really shouldn’t complain since it offered some much needed funds in a time where contract work and home improvement wasn’t a very stable profession but working his friends to death wasn’t exactly something he enjoyed.

With a great deal of effort he managed to swipe his blankets aside and heft his bulky body out of bed. Dragging himself around his room he got dressed, pulling one of his work uniforms from his closet and shrugging the shirt on over an old beater. He picked up his phone with one hand while the other struggled with the buttons.

“Christ, five missed calls already…” he rolled his eyes to the ceiling in exasperation only to be caught by the old poster’s wisdom. Stress fell away in favor of amusement and he tucked his phone between his ear and his shoulder as he stepped out of his room and headed for the kitchen.

Connie’s excited voice chanted at him message after message and he chuckled at his coworker’s rising panic with each subsequent voicemail. He’d nearly finished buttoning his shirt by the time he reached the kitchen and spotted Jean hunched over a large book at the table. Connie’s voice cut off again with an agitated click and Reiner frowned as he noticed he was one button off and had to undo the whole thing and try again. He must have grumbled louder than he realized because Jean surfaced from his studies to level a drowsy glare at him.

“Well good fucking morning, sleeping beauty.” Jean said, scoffing at Reiner’s obvious difficulty in buttoning his shirt and shaking his head. “Coffee’s made but we’re out of creamer.”

Reiner scanned through his messages once more before setting his phone aside and buttoning his shirt properly. “Black’s fine for me anyway.” He said, pouring himself a cup and tilting his head to try and get a look at what Jean was reading. “You should watch the language this early in the morning. No wonder you’re always such a grump.” He teased looked down into his cup to avoid Jean’s next glare. “Or maybe just get to bed a little earlier. I didn’t hear you come in last night so you must have been out pretty late.” Reiner stepped over and sat across from Jean at the table, resting his chin in his hand and peeking at his book.

“I had class.”

Reiner frowned when Jean dragged his book closer and rubbed at his eyes. “Hey, I respect you for going back to school after what, six years, and all that. That’s awesome, keep it up, but if you go at it like this for too long you’re just going to make yourself sick. You can glare at me all you want to and bitch and moan and whatever you need to do, Jean, but I’m serious.” Reiner said while lifting his cup to his lips. Jean just shrugged him off and turned the page. He was just too stubborn but Reiner didn’t mind that much. He was just grateful to have a roommate again. “Huh…how’d I get stuck with such a college brat like you for a roommate anyway?” He asked, smirking into his coffee.

Jean was obviously too tired to appreciate Reiner trying to joke with him and grumbled something under his breath.

“What was that? Maybe I’m just getting too old for Mr. Second-time-a-freshman over here.”

Jean flipped his book shut and shoved it away. “I said probably because no one can handle you! I mean, what with Connie and Eren hopping on the marriage train and Thomas ODing last year your options are pretty slim to start with. And it doesn’t look like Armin’s coming back so…” Jean’s initial bravado steadily faded until it became obvious he regretted what he’d said.

Reiner sat his mug on the table.

“Uh…yeah. I didn’t mean to say that. Sorry, you know I don’t think much before I speak and all that-”

“Hey, it’s not a problem, don’t worry about it.” Reiner cut in and rose from his chair to retrieve his phone from the counter. He could hear Jean turn around and stopped whatever apologetic mumbling he was about to spew at him by nodding at the clock on the wall.

“We’d best get going or we’ll be the last ones there. You know if you keep coming in late I’m going to have to fire your ass.”

Jean got up quickly and reached for his coat only to pause with one arm in its sleeve.

“Wait! But YOU’RE driving me to work! You’ll be late too.” Jean hurriedly shrugged on his coat and stuffed his book inside before zipping it up.

“Exactly! So move your ass!” Reiner said, laughing as he gave Jean a playful shove towards the door. He found his own coat and patted the pocket for keys. “I can only blame you so many times before the others catch on so lets try and be more punctual.”

Jean just snorted and shook his head, already out the door and trudging down the hall. “Whatever you say, man.”

                The commute to work was a hellish one. They left just as morning traffic was at its finest and the blare of horns and fog of exhaust welled up in the soggy city. It was still dark thanks to the perpetual rains and Reiner cranked the windshield wipers up to get a better view of the cars bustling around them. Jean was unusually silent during the ride this morning and Reiner cast him a few quick glances to see if he was snoozing or not. Much to his displeasure he was, in fact, studying again. Reiner sighed and flicked on the radio though after switching through several talk shows he just turned it off again. He didn’t like this quiet.

“So how’s class-“

“Listen Reiner I kind of feel bad about what I said earlier.” Jean’s voice rose up to meet his and soon swallowed it up while effectively shattering whatever good mood Reiner had been nurturing.

The leather of the steering wheel creaked as Reiner tightened his grip on it and glared out at the jumble of cars stopping and going and stopping again.

“I told you it was fine. Just let it be. Seriously, it’s too early for that kind of stuff.” He tried to shrug it off and instinctively patted at his shirt pocket before realizing he quit smoking. Christ, he didn’t even have a piece of gum.

“But Reiner, you know-“

“Jean, seriously, just shut up.” Reiner’s voice rose before he could stop and he had to take in a deep breath to quell his rising rage. Jean went quiet and Reiner couldn’t bring himself to look at him for at least another two blocks of stop and go traffic. “You’re really antsy when you don’t get enough sleep.” Reiner said after he’d allowed words of optimism to tumble about in his head a while. “Maybe you should take some time off to get used to those wonky night classes. It won’t be good if you get hurt on the job because you’re not at one hundred percent.”

There was the soft clicking of a turning signal, the blare of a horn somewhere along the line, and Reiner turned off the main street to merge into the lesser traffic of the narrow outer-city streets. He could hear Jean’s finger tapping on the ashtray of the old van’s passenger door and he sighed. “Seriously, though. I might be able to give you some sort of paid leave with all of the money we’re getting now. Why not take a couple days off at least?”

Another turn and the van bumped its way into a dilapidated parking lot, weaving around potholes and finding its place closest to the street lamp. Reiner cut the engine and sat back in the groaning leather seat. He looked out the window at the growing puddles of water pooling around hopelessly clogged drains. He could almost make out Jean’s reflection like this and turned to meet his confused stare.

“What?” Reiner looked down at himself and back up at Jean questioningly.

Jean opened his mouth to say something but seemed to think better of it. “Uh, well I appreciate the offer and all that but with Sasha’s baby on the way Connie’s going to be out of commission soon so with me gone too it’ll mostly be you and Mike.” Jean said, his tapping increasing to a rapid patter. “You can’t cover all of that with just two guys. Besides, my classes aren’t THAT bad.” Jean tried to shrug it off but Reiner could tell his reinstallation into college life wasn’t going as smoothly as he had hoped. Reiner shrugged and popped his door open.

“It’s just something to consider is all. Not a big deal either way.” He assured him, flashing Jean a smile before ducking out into the rain.

The shop wasn’t far from the lot and even before Reiner reached the door he knew he’d been spotted. One glance through the window and he could see Connie standing behind his desk and yapping away on the phone.

“Brace yourself.” He said, sharing a chuckle with Jean before opening the door and stepping inside. As he suspected, all hell had broken loose overnight and half the town was flooded. His usually slow business days of odd jobs and paperwork were swept away with the spring rain and with all of the major construction companies booked to capacity Braun’s Contracting Services was happy to mop up the excess. For the most part anyway.

“You’re late again!” Connie squawked once he had hung up the phone. “I called you, like, twelve times!” He insisted and Jean held his hands up defensively.

“Hey, it’s not MY fault this time, honest!” he insisted and headed for the back room probably with the hope of catching a few more minutes of study.

Reiner didn’t bother taking off his coat and walked up to the shabby desk to leaf through the growing pile of jobs.

“Why didn’t you answer any of my calls? The phone’s been ringing off the hook since five this morning and I don’t see how we’re supposed to handle all of these.” Connie’s voice rose again in his excitement and Reiner couldn’t help but laugh. “This isn’t funny!” he said though any further complaint was silenced by the shrill cry of the telephone. Reiner only grinned as Connie scooped up the receiver and managed to adopt some semblance of calm if only for the sake of professionalism.

“You know maybe Sasha should stay home more often. You make a great secretary in her place, Connie. Just grow your hair out a little, maybe a little blush and you’d be the image of secretarial perfection.”

Connie looked up from the note he was jotting down, the phone still pressed against his ear, and flicked him off. Reiner only laughed harder and reached out to pat Connie’s shaved head while he scanned through the notes Connie had taken. The majority of the calls had involved flooded basements which Reiner had expected though there were a few pertaining to fallen gutters or eavestroughs and various leaks. They certainly had their work cut out for them.

Connie hung up with a resounding click and slapped the new note in Reiner’s hands along with the others. “I don’t see how you plan on managing THIS but there’s only four of us here today, none of our temp guys are showing up so I don’t know-“ he was cut off by another plaintive cry from the old landline. “oh for the love of- hello, Braun’s Contracting Services, how may I help you?” he scooped the receiver up again and Reiner shook his head as he turned away.

How _were_ they going to handle this? Odds were he’d have to refer some of these to other businesses even if he disliked the idea of turning down potential profits. He flipped through the crinkled notes, counting them, reorganizing them by type of job and location and plucking those located furthest away from the shop to be handed over. There were a good dozen jobs he’d be handing away and it was certainly an uncomfortable feeling. These dozen jobs would be a godsend during the winter months when business was so slow he and Jean would live on cereal and ramen noodles like poor students and Connie worked part time jobs alongside this one just to pay the bills.

“Tough call, huh?”

Reiner couldn’t help the uneasy shudder that made his shoulders hunch as he became aware of Mike beside him. Mike leaned over Reiner’s shoulder with his usual smile; presumably looking at the notes though Reiner wasn’t sure how he could even see under that messy mop of hair. “You said it, not me.”

“You having a rough morning?” Mike asked while reaching out to take the rejected notes from Reiner’s hand.

“Why do you ask that?” Reiner unconsciously inched away from his older coworker and rubbed at the back of his neck. Mike was always like this. Personal space really wasn’t an issue for him and he was always so in-tune with everyone around him it was like he could read minds. It might have been creepy if he wasn’t such a great guy.

“Hm, I don’t know. Just getting a sort of tense vibe from you is all.” Mike flipped through the rejected jobs and clicked his tongue thoughtfully.

“Well, you know, sneaking up on people is bound to make them tense. I keep telling you that. One of these days you’re going to give me a fright and I’m going to pop you one in the face. I won’t even feel sorry,” Reiner said. “But no, this morning isn’t really all that bad.” He shrugged off Mike’s concern and flipped back through their list of jobs, starting to separate them into two doable groups.

“You sure?” Mike didn’t look up from his task, snagging a paperclip from the desk to keep the lost jobs together and setting them beside the phonebook so they could be redirected later.

“Yeah I’m sure. But, hey, do you have any candy?” Reiner looked up from the notes expectantly and sure enough Mike’s smile widened in triumph.

“Huh? Fighting the nicotine battle this morning, Reiner?” Mike sighed sympathetically and dug into his pockets. “When do I NOT have candy? What do you want?” Mike rummaged around a bit before producing a handful of various small candies. “Let’s see, looks like we have two dumdum suckers, an orange starburst, and a mini pack of peanut M&M’s-“ Mike was interrupted by Jean’s voice bubbling up from the back room.

“Did someone say M&M’s?” The sound of a chair scrapping on the old linoleum floor and the scuffle of footsteps warned them of Jean’s impending ambush and the two men exchanged a glance.

“Seems like you’ve made your choice.”

“You bet.” Reiner scooped up the packet of M&M’s and hurriedly shoved them in his pocket just as Jean poked his head out from the backroom.

“Hey I want some candy, Mike.” he insisted and Mike laughed at his childishness, stepping away from the desk to go show him what he had.

Connie, meanwhile, had hung up the phone and flopped back in the decayed office chair that leaned back so far you could kiss the floor. He rubbed at his eyes and glared over at Jean who was making a fuss about losing his opportunity for morning chocolate.

“So, what’s the verdict? I don’t think we can handle any more jobs like this. We’ll have to start referring them to other local businesses. Most of them are highlighted in the phonebook, though.” Reiner said as he leaned over the desk and laid out the neat little piles he’d organized for them. “I figure we can split into groups to tackle the larger projects and some of these smaller ones can be done by individuals.” Reiner tapped each pile in turn. “But we’ll have our hands full for the next couple days. Try not to accept any jobs unless they’re just small ones.”

Connie heaved another sigh, leaning back until Reiner was certain he was going to flip the chair. “Yeah all right, that sounds about right. We’ll have to just let the machine take the calls while we leave though.” He said and glared at the old phone inconspicuously held together with black duct tape. “Who’s going to have to wade through all of those later?”

“Well, not Sasha.” Reiner pointed out and chuckled at Connie’s weary groans. “Don’t worry about it, Connie, I’ll go through them tonight. It’s fine. But for now lets get moving.” He scooped up one of the note stacks. “I’ll take Mike for these flooded basements on the east side so you take Jean and see what you can do about some of those office buildings downtown.” Connie’s groans only escalated and Reiner rolled his eyes before turning to fetch Mike.

“Oh, wait a minute.” Connie said, springing up in the chair with a ghastly screech of the old metal parts. “This last call was an older woman from the south side.” Connie took up the note he’d jotted down in a hurry. “She really liked to talk but, anyway, she said she knows you.” He waved the note in the air until Reiner snatched it up. “She was hoping you could come take a look at a leaky ceiling in her building.”

Reiner hummed to himself curiously as he scanned the note. He certainly knew the building and recognized right off the bat that a leaky ceiling may very well be the least of the problems there but the landlady’s name took longer to recognize. It came to him slowly, clawing its way up from the recesses of his memory and stirring the thick sludge that had settled there.

“Oh. Right.” Reiner said and smoothed out the wrinkled paper with coarse thumbs, smudging the ink in the process.

“So, you know her?” Connie’s voice came to him from a distance and he looked up slowly.

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Yeah I do. She was a friend of my mother’s once upon a time.” Reiner said and shrugged it off as nothing. “She’s a little eccentric from what I remember but she used to teach my sister piano.” He chuckled a little at the murky memories. “I bet she was calling in a favor, huh? That’s probably why she asked for me specifically.”

Connie studied him a moment but didn’t take the time to really worry about him. “Well, actually she asked for your old man but you know…” Connie shrugged and heaved himself out of his chair with a low grunt. Stretching this way and that to twist his tension away, he called to Jean who had disappeared back into the depths of the shop. Reiner smiled to himself and looked back down at the note.

“Yeah. That figures.” Reiner wondered how she’d found him. It had been years since any of his father’s friends or acquaintances had contacted the shop for any reason and he had to wonder if maybe she was just grasping at straws. Obviously she didn’t remember that old man Braun had kicked it a few years back or the apparent scandal of his son dropping out of college after coming out his senior year. Or maybe she just didn’t care. Eccentric or not, maybe she was a reasonable person who didn’t quite care who the contractor was so long as she could get her roof fixed.

“Hey, where’s our first stop?” Mike asked, drawing Reiner free from his musings and making him painfully aware of his personal space.

“Do you always have to hover so close?”

Mike laughed at Reiner’s discomfort and patted his shoulder. “You know you wouldn’t have it any other way.” He said and tilted his head to get a better look at the note in Reiner’s hand. “Is this our first job then? Doesn’t look like a very good part of town.” Mike reached for the slip but Reiner shoved it in his pocket before he could get at it.

“Nah, I’ll take care of that one later. It’s just a little leak, not a big deal.” Reiner said while avoiding Mike’s curious stare and handing him the first note in their stack.

Mike took up the slip but didn’t look at it, instead watching Reiner who jingled his keys in his pocket and retrieved a clipboard from the desk before turning back to the door.

“Mike, if you’re going to keep staring at me like that at least ask me out for a drink.” Reiner joked and tucked the clipboard in his coat. “But seriously, we should get going. That’s an upper-class neighborhood and they’re going to be _pissed_ that their stuffy houses have indoor swimming pools now.” Mike laughed and Reiner felt a sense of relief when he didn’t ask any questions.

“Well maybe I will ask you out for a drink sometime. I’ve been meaning to call Erwin anyway. It’s been a while since we’ve gotten together with everyone.”

“Of course you would invite the cop to a night on the town. Sometimes I wonder why I try.” Reiner said with an overly dramatic huff and ducked his head as he opened the door and stepped out into the inevitable pounding of rain. “Oh, grab a few extra pumps from the back room.” He called over his shoulder before the door could swing shut behind him. With the thud of the door closing he found himself alone in the slanting rain and shoved his hands in his pockets. In one he felt the lumpy pouch of candies already melting into mush and in the other he felt the crinkling of his past giving way beneath his fingers and as he trudged his way back to his van, hopping murky puddles and dodging streams of rubbish, he wondered why things had taken such an unsuspected twist.

He’d been doing fine, more than fine, for a long time now; plugging away at his work and enjoying a simple blue-collar life oblivious to the heavy baggage he carried around his neck. It was filthy, stinking baggage, garbage that bulged and fermented in the back of his mind but that he had long since learned to cope with. He’d almost forgotten the vile stuff that bubbled and oozed, burning his eyes and clogging his throat but what took months to pack away, building and building, took only moments to rupture in a mess of remorse and self-loathing. He could already feel it leaking, dripping into his consciousness and poisoning his hopes of optimism. Twice today he’d been brought to the verge, could feel the lining tear and all that venomous waste well up in response but things would get better. No matter how much spilled he could always clean himself back up again. Good things come to those who wait but after years of optimism he wasn’t sure how much more waiting he was willing to do.

The van heated up slowly and Reiner watched the wipers thrash against the windshield with a sense of apprehension. He was a grown man now, he couldn’t hide behind his optimism forever and sooner or later he’d have to deal with all of this. He just hoped today wasn’t the day for some kind of deep revelation. Shoving his hand in his pocket he found the bag of M&M’s and ripped it open with his teeth. He popped the candies one by one into his mouth, oblivious to the sticky mess on his fingers, and crunched away desperately at the peanuts hidden beneath the sweet slime of melted chocolate. His mind screamed for comfort, his body begged for nicotine, and his teeth ground away his tensions with a sweet aftertaste. Left alone he fell victim to the silence.

The van wobbled and Reiner looked up to watch Mike’s reflection in the rearview mirror. He opened the back of the van with a sad creak of the old doors and hefted the extra pumps in among hosing and other tools.

“All right! Looks like we’re set. You’re driving then?” Mike called from the back and Reiner swallowed his insecurities with the lingering taste of salt.

“Of course I’m driving, it’s my van.” Mike laughed at his response, swinging the doors shut and leaving Reiner jostling in the worn leather and squeaky springs of his seat. The passenger door opened a moment later and Mike plopped down into the seat with a spray of water from his wild hair.

“Fair enough, but you drive like an old man.” Mike contested, flashing him a smirk from beneath his scruff.

“Better an old man than a ratty old dog.” Reiner shot back and the two laughed, the sound accompanied by the steady drum of rain and swish of the fervent wipers against the glass.

“Huh, you think it will stop raining soon? I heard this morning that they’re calling for record rainfall this spring,” Mike said as the van bumped across the lot and shimmied its way onto the streets. “I don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

Reiner adjusted his rearview mirror as if it would be much use with the cluttered van marring his view and lifted a shoulder dismissively. “Can’t tell for sure if it will or not. But, we can always hope.” He said, ducking down and trying to get a better view out of his window to check for traffic. “It’s got to stop sometime.”

Mike leaned back in his seat, the springs begging for mercy under his weight, and stroked at the messy scruff on his jaw. “Well I guess you’re right. It can’t rain forever. Everything’s gotta end eventually.” He chuckled as he said this and reached out to fiddle with the radio.

Reiner eased the van to a halt at a stop sign and contemplated those words. “Yeah. Eventually.”


	3. Chapter 2.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Interesting first impressions.

The rain did pull a momentary ceasefire by the time Reiner had finished up the last of his jobs and the sun even managed to struggle through the clouds to cast a hazy glow on the dripping city. Reiner had called the old woman about the ceiling problem and she had sounded ecstatic to have such a prompt response. Now, pulling his van up against the curb with a spray of gutter sludge, he peered out the window at the dilapidated apartment complex and wondered if maybe he might be getting in over his head. Odds were high there were far more problems than a simple leaky ceiling and if he did one favor it was likely she would ask for another and as much as he didn’t have the time or the man power to handle anything like this on the side he knew he was powerless against little old women. How could you say no to a grandmother? It just wasn’t done.

He hopped out of the van with a splash and waded through the murky puddles to retrieve his ladder before trotting up the few short steps and buzzing for the landlady. As he waited he couldn’t help but notice how the evening sunlight peeked over the buildings and made even the garbage of the inner city glitter before being washed away by rivulets of rainwater. Everything around him dripped and the busy gushing of the eavestroughs didn’t seem quite so abrasive when the little birds came out of hiding to splash about and forage for seeds. It might be one of the wettest springs they’d had in years but it was spring all the same and Reiner liked to remind himself that sooner or later it would be beach weather.

He chuckled to himself at the very idea of him visiting the beach but turned back to the door when he heard the creak of floorboards from inside. There was a moment’s pause before the door inched open and he was welcomed by a soft wrinkled face. Reiner recognized the woman instantly though she seemed far smaller than he remembered and her pale blue eyes always looked over his shoulder when she spoke.

He was welcomed inside like a long lost friend and though Reiner tried to steer the conversation to the task at hand it was impossible to avoid being ushered into her snug apartment. She talked and talked as elders were prone to do and on more than one occasion she called him by his father’s name but he was willing to forgive her these small mistakes if only because the cookies she offered him were the best he’d ever had. After nearly an hour of trying to disentangle himself from her idle chatter they somehow got around to the ceiling in question and the landlady seemed more than happy to provide the details. It took him nearly twenty minutes more to inch his way out of her apartment but eventually he was released and hefted his ladder in one arm with a sigh of relief.

“Bertholdt Hoover, huh? That’s got to be German…well, maybe not Hoover but-” Reiner’s boot caught on the loose carpeting at the foot of the stairs and he very nearly took a bite out of the banister while trying not to throw his ladder. The resulting clatter of the metal against the steps had his ears ringing and he hissed when his shin made contact with the unforgiving wood.

“For the love of- fuck. Three steps into this place and already-ugh.” Reiner’s cursing quickly fell away as he heard doors opening down the hall and he hurriedly gathered up his ladder and limped his way up the creaking stairs. Having reached the third floor without falling through any rotting steps, Reiner paused to rub at his aching leg and noticed the misaligned floorboards scattered here and there along the dim hallway. There was one in particular, strategically placed at the top of the staircase, that looked mangled and warped enough to cause him a certain amount of misery if he should forget its existence. Reiner had expected difficulties with a rundown place like this but he hadn’t thought the floor, of all things, would put up such a fight.

Skirting the particularly twisted boards, Reiner made his way down the narrow hall lined with faded green doors. He found room 302 hidden in the gloom and grime and stared at the old brass numbers discolored with age and winking in the faint glow of distant sconces. The hall was quiet aside from the creaking of the old building and muffled voices rising from neighboring apartments. The landlady had mentioned that this Hoover guy was a ‘nice young man’ which, considering she was nearly ancient, could mean a number of things. Reiner just hoped he wasn’t some young punk or worse, some kind of middle aged bible thumper or something. Readjusting his grip on the ladder he reminded himself that it didn’t matter who the guy was only that he had a problem and it was Reiner’s job to fix it. Reiner was a 31 year old man, he might not be able to handle a bit of loose carpeting but he’d be damned if he couldn’t handle some scrub in a grungy apartment.

Pushing aside his initial hesitance, Reiner lifted his hand and knocked on the door. The wood was surprisingly sturdy beneath the rapping of his knuckles and he spent the next few moments studying the chipped paint if only to ignore the wailing of a child next door. Distorted voices seeped through the walls and made Reiner fidget. He turned to stare as if he could see the couple through the olive paint and flaking plaster but was met only with the violence of a man’s voice. The hard, stabbing sounds of their arguing made him flinch and wrapped around him so tightly that he didn’t noticed the door inching open in front of him.

“Um…excuse me?”

Reiner jumped, turning back to the door and hugging his ladder close out of embarrassment. He had to look up to find the man’s face peering down at him with no small amount of curiosity. Reiner cleared his throat. “Oh, sorry about that.” He said, a bit thrown off by the sheer size of the man who looked more uncomfortable than Reiner felt.

“No, that’s fine.”

Reiner just stared for an awkward moment before the man coughed nervously and looked from Reiner to his ladder and back again.

“You must be here about the ceiling?” he offered and Reiner remembered where he was.

“Right. Yeah, I’m sorry. I just got thrown off with, um…” he let his voice fall away as the arguing next door swelled up again and they both looked down the hall this time.

“Don’t apologize. I understand entirely. Here.”

Reiner looked back and watched the man shut the door, heard the rattle of the chain lock and the faint creak of the hinges as the door swung open again, farther this time.

“Come in. I wasn’t expecting you so soon.” The man said, stepping aside to avoid the bulky ladder. “I wish the landlady would have given me a call…it’s a mess in here.”

From the moment Reiner stepped inside he felt mildly ashamed of having suspected the worst of this man. Dressed in a plain gray sweater with too short sleeves, the man was anything but some hoodlum and Reiner could have laughed at himself for worrying. The apartment was snug but tidy, warm, homey. The only sign of a mess Reiner could find was in what he assumed was the living room. A short coffee table squatted in the center of the room carpeted with papers, books, and a laptop whose screen went dark from neglect. The papers rustled in a slight breeze trickling in from a nearby window and Reiner could imagine the tall man huddled on the floor snatching papers as they tried to take flight.

“A mess?” Reiner couldn’t help the teasing tone in his voice and arched a brow at his client who had ushered him towards the kitchen and offered to take his coat. “I don’t see how it could get much cleaner.” He said, smiling at the man’s bashful reaction and handing him the damp coat which Bert draped over the back of a chair. This Hoover guy certainly seemed like a friendly giant, if not a little timid.

“Anyway, I’m sorry for the awkward first impression.” Reiner said and leaned the ladder against the kitchen table hoping to mend whatever unprofessional impression he might have given. He was momentarily distracted by a bouquet perched a little too close to the table’s edge. The bright pinks and whites of the flowers almost seemed abrasive in the otherwise neutral apartment and Reiner couldn’t help but study them a moment before turning back to offer his hand. “I’m Reiner Braun of Braun’s Contracting Services. I’m here to take a look at a ceiling leak, but you know that already.”

The man looked from the ladder down to his extended hand and Reiner wasn’t sure if Bertholdt looked uncomfortable or agitated.

“Is…is now a bad time? The landlady didn’t mention any particular time so I thought I would just swing by when my other jobs were finished for the day…” Reiner could see the man hesitate before taking his hand and when he finally did his palm was hot and sweaty. The look in the man’s eyes when he looked up again confirmed that he was, in fact, nervous. Reiner wasn’t sure but it looked like Bert was actually breaking a sweat and he suddenly felt as though he’d done something wrong. “Seriously, maybe I should come back another time?”

“Oh. No, no it’s fine, really.” The man appeared to struggle with some kind of anxiety and his voice nearly cracked as a result. His hand tightened before letting go and he wiped it off on his pant leg with an escalating sense of embarrassment. Reiner could see the color rise to his face and felt the need to diffuse the situation.

“Okay then, if you say so…um, so, Mr. Hoover, right?” he offered and the man looked up from where he was struggling to roll up his sleeves with twitching fingers.

“Huh? No. I mean, please call me Bertholdt. Things like Mr. Hoover are for my students. And, well, right, the leak. It’s this way, actually.” He nodded to himself as if just then remembering what this whole thing was about.

“Students?” Reiner watched the man turn away and head for the hallway and he followed suit after hastily retrieving his ladder from the table.

“Well, yes. I’m a professor. Part time these days but a professor all the same.” Bertholdt glanced back over his shoulder at him and Reiner gave him a decent amount of space as they waded deeper into his apartment. As he went Reiner couldn’t help but notice the photos dappling the walls in frames of every size and color. Some looked old and faded with smiling kids, tire swings, an old farm house, the whole shebang.

“A professor, huh? That sounds interesting.” Reiner looked down from the latest cluster of frames and slowed when Bertholdt stopped to open a door at the end of the hall. As soon as the door opened Reiner could hear the dripping.

“Interesting?” Bertholdt looked back at him and Reiner could tell he’d struck his interest. There was a certain amount of excitement just in the tone of his voice that was so at odds with his nervous behavior that Reiner couldn’t help but pursue the subject further.

“Sure. Anyone who can go through all of that schooling to become a professor sure has dedication. Besides you don’t look all that old. You must have been a prodigy or something.”

Bertholdt turned back quickly, looking more bashful than anything else and he walked into the room. “Not a prodigy…” he mumbled, his voice nearly swallowed whole by the insistent dripping.

“Well, smarter than this old dog by any means and…Christ.” Reiner stepped into the room and with one look knew this was more than a patch job. The ceiling had started to warp, bits of plaster had fallen in soggy chunks and there were now two steady drips into two equally full pots. Reiner shook his head as he watched a new chunk dislodge from a growing hole and plop into one of the makeshift reservoirs.

“How long have you been living with this? And in a bedroom…” Reiner set his ladder up where he wouldn’t get drenched and stood back beside Bertholdt to get a good look at the big picture. Bertholdt rubbed his hands together anxiously and Reiner didn’t blame him for being a little worried. This was a mess.

“This just happened the other day. Not even a week ago, actually, which is why I was so surprised to have you here so soon. I assumed, you know, with all of the flooding in town that my little apartment might not be high on the priority list.” Bertholdt shrugged and stepped up to take one of the full pots. “You know I really appreciate you coming out on such short notice.” He hefted up the pot, careful not to spill on the already ruined carpeting, and shuffled out of the room to the nearby bathroom.

“Hey, don’t mention it.” Reiner said, unable to look away from the project at hand.  He could hear the water splashing in the tub and dragged his ladder over the drenched carpeting while Bertholdt returned to take care of the second pot. “I’m going to leave some tarps here with you, okay? We’re going to want to lay them out on the floor so you don’t give the people below you a nasty leak too.” Reiner climbed up the ladder and clicked his tongue at the extent of the damages. “I’m going to tell you now, this ceiling is going to get a lot worse before it gets better. It’s going to get really messy when I pull out all of this ruined plaster and whatever rotting insulation or wood I find up here. It might look like a warzone for a few weeks, actually.” Reiner reached up to touch the ceiling and tore off a wet hunk of plaster in the process. He could feel it crumbling between his fingers and looked down at Bertholdt who stood in the safety of the doorway looking more worried than ever.

“A warzone?” He wrung his hands together all the more. “W-well not for TOO long, right? I can’t afford to have my apartment in shambles. Not right now.”

Reiner watched Bertholdt’s fidgeting increase and slowly climbed down from the ladder. “Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ll keep things as tidy as I can. Promise.” He offered a smile as he stepped down onto the wet floor with a squelch. “Which means I should go grab those tarps, huh?” he stepped to the door and waited for Bertholdt to lead the way back through the apartment.

“Right. I’ll keep the door propped for you.” Bertholdt hovered near the door as Reiner stepped out into the dark hall. “Oh and watch out for the carpet at the foot of the stairs.”

Reiner stopped at the top of the staircase and looked back at him. “No kidding!” he called and made his way down and out.

Returning with the tarps and a bulky tool box proved to be much less of a challenge than the ladder had been. Reiner whistled as he successfully sidestepped the gnarled floorboards and shouldered his way through Bertholdt’s propped door. When Reiner stepped back into the apartment he paused just long enough to nudge the flower vase further onto the table before heading for the hallway. He hadn’t noticed Bertholdt until he’d passed right by him and heard the furious clicking of keys on his laptop. The timid giant had settled back into his paper nest and was hunched over the small coffee table, his slim face etched with the harsh light of the laptop’s screen. He looked nearly as comical as Reiner had imagined, though, in a way, he seemed far more professional than he had originally expected. Professional and at ease. The man had gone from a fidgeting mess back to a functioning professor in record breaking time with only the slight dark stains under his arms and around his collar to betray his anxiety. Reiner did his best not to disturb whatever delicate peace Bertholdt had obtained in his mess of papers and hurried down the hall with the crinkle of tarps and clatter of metal tools.

Reaching the bedroom, Reiner swung the door nearly shut to try and block most of the ruckus he’d be making once he started peeling away the plaster and went about laying out the tarps. The carpet was soggy and squelched underfoot but he wouldn’t bother with it until he’d at least patched the leak. All of the carpeting in the room would have to be torn up at this rate but he didn’t want to leave the poor guy with a bare floor AND a gaping hole in his ceiling. Baby steps.

As Reiner got to work he grew accustomed to the quiet apartment and even learned to ignore the occasional bump or distant voices from the surrounding apartments. Whatever awkward tension he might have felt earlier faded away within the first hour and he suited up and went to work pulling down dripping plaster in large hunks that disintegrated into a chalky muck on the tarps. With all of the gross wet splatting sounds of swollen plaster and murky water gushing down onto the tarps, Reiner missed the thud of the door and patter of feet in the apartment. In fact he didn’t even realize someone was there until he pulled down the last of the affected plaster and caught the muffled sound of voices filtering in from the living room. At first he thought it might be coming from one of the neighboring apartments and tried to block it out but as he hopped down off his ladder and found a trash bag among his things he heard the timid quavering of Bertholdt’s voice. He paused, glancing at the cracked door and inadvertently leaning closer to hear. Bertholdt was talking to someone and from the sound of things it was a woman.

Eavesdropping was an awful habit. The act of _purposefully_ sticking your nose into someone else’s business without them knowing was disgusting, dishonest, and certainly disrespectful. Which is why he preferred to call this an _accident_. How was he supposed to _avoid_ hearing them in such a small apartment? It was impossible. Yeah. Definitely impossible. He crouched down to start scooping up the mess of plaster and inched his way closer to the door where the voices could be heard more clearly. The rustling of the trash bag in his hand blocked them out momentarily and Reiner had to slow down so he could hear. At this rate he was dropping in less than handfuls but he didn’t really care, something about the woman’s tone of voice piqued his interest and if he leaned just a little closer he could make out their words.

“I-I just wasn’t expecting you is all, of course I like having you over though, that’s not a problem at all,” Bertholdt was speaking quickly, the low thrum of his voice rising to a nervous pitch.

“I told you I was coming.” The woman sounded less than forgiving and almost mildly…bored? Uninterested? Reiner stopped working altogether and leaned back against the wall beside the door.

“Well, yes, but I didn’t think it would be _today._ I mean, the place is a bit of a mess, I’m sorry I just wasn’t expecting you and at this time and-“

“Jesus, Bertholdt, would you listen to yourself right now? I don’t care, okay? I’m just here to pick up a pair of shoes I left last time. Is that all right? Can I grab those?” Her voice held a certain bite to it, while not being altogether accusative or even aggressive it still was just…condescending was a great word for it. Reiner frowned and tilted his head to peek around the doorframe. From where he sat he could see Bertholdt rubbed at the back of his neck, his face flushed and eyes downcast. He caught a glimpse of the woman’s shoulder, blonde hair, a white sweatshirt of some kind and she stepped away into the kitchen. Bertholdt watched her every move and didn’t seem to know what to say. He was completely at this woman’s mercy.

“I’m sorry, Annie. I just get a little worked up sometimes.” He looked up, quickly looked back down and adjusted his sleeves. “You know I was kind of hoping we might get to spend some time together when you came over that’s why I was just…a little worried that it was kind of messy…” he looked towards the living room and back up at the woman as she came back into Reiner’s view. She was holding something and Reiner could barely make out her face through the veil of her bangs. Bertholdt’s nervousness only seemed to increase.

“What’s this, Bert? One of your silly lists again. I thought I told you to cut it out with those. It’s so weird.” She lifted a hand to tuck her bangs back and Reiner had to duck to avoid catching her eye. He became increasingly aware of how none of this was any of his business but his guilt didn’t quite outweigh his curiosity.

“I know, I know…I just like to stay organized-“

“What’s that say? Something wrong with your ceiling?” This woman (what did Bertholdt call her?) hardly let the poor man speak, though it seemed his stuttering grated at her patience. Reiner looked down at the puddles of brown water and swimming mounds of plaster and started to scoop again, hearing footsteps in the hall. He made a point of making obvious sounds as if he’d been working all along.

“Oh, yes, I have a little leak but- Annie it’s a mess in there! Why don’t you let me get the shoes for you?”

“Just calm down, Bert, seriously. I can grab my own shoes. Stop getting so upset over everything.” Her voice sounded agitated and Reiner bowed his head to his work when the door finally swung open and the woman’s feet rustled the tarps.

Reiner could feel her exasperation as soon as she entered the room but the look on her face seemed far colder than he had expected. He looked up as casually as he could manage and did his best to offer a smile but something about her aloof manner and her unforgiving stare seemed to write him off instantaneously. Her gaze swept over him, took him all in within moments as if analyzing the meaning of his presence. Like an animal wary of a threat, or, perhaps, like a predator sizing up a potential competitor. Either way, she didn’t seem to find anything troubling about him and within those few short seconds when their eyes met she made up her mind. Not important.

Reiner felt a stab of irritation, plopping an extra heavy clump into his trash bag to hide his distaste. The woman didn’t seem to register him at all after that moment, turning her attention instead to the gaping hole in the ceiling with a sound of disgust. She turned away from it all, stepped over to the closet and rummaged about before producing a pair of black shoes. The whole incident only took a matter of minutes yet Reiner felt a lasting tension even after the woman left the room. He stared down at the waterlogged plaster before glancing at the door. It was left wide open as if to expose everything. Let the problems out where they could be easily addressed. He scooped up another handful and let it slip through his fingers.

Down the hall Bert was chattering again. Something that sounded like an apology but Reiner didn’t quite pick up the words. He pushed around some of the last remaining plaster on the tarp and tilted his head to listen in more closely. Something about that woman unnerved him and he wondered what she was doing here with such a nervous guy in the first place. Her voice cut Bert’s down relentlessly.

“Whether or not you expected me doesn’t really matter, does it? I came here for the shoes and now I have the shoes. Really, you have to learn not to get your panties in a bunch.” Her heavy sigh blew away any lingering words Bert had muttered and Reiner leaned closer to peek around the doorframe again. He saw them both standing there, Bert by the kitchen table and the woman some feet away. Bert looked even more flustered than he had when Reiner had offered to shake his hand, fidgeting and sweating.

“I know, I’m sorry about that, Annie. I’m trying.” Bert looked at her and she mustn’t have seemed all that convinced because Reiner could see his disappointment.

“Yeah, well I came for the shoes. Oh, by the way, we’re performing downtown tomorrow. You’re going to be there, aren’t you?”

Bert stared at her. “Tomorrow?” He seemed lost as if picking through his brain to try and remember these plans.

Another sigh. “Yes, Bertholdt, tomorrow. I could have sworn I told you about this one.” The woman, Annie, crossed her arms over her chest, the shoes dangling from one hand.

“I….I must have forgotten. I should have written a note but I don’t recall-“

“Hey, it’s fine. If you’re not going to come then I’m going to give your ticket to someone else-“

“No!” Bert reached up as if he meant to keep her from even thinking about giving away his space. “Ah, no, it’s fine, really. I…well I’m working tomorrow, but I’m certain I could call in a favor or a sick day perhaps...” he glanced around the room as if searching for a solution.

Reiner felt his legs start to cramp from crouching for so long but he didn’t dare move knowing that they would probably hear the rustling of the tarp. This really, _really,_ wasn’t any of his business.

“I’ll be there. For sure.” Bertholdt said, smiling with more certainty than he probably felt.

Annie just shrugged. “Okay, I’ll have them reserve a ticket for you then. It starts at seven.” She started to walk to the door as she spoke and Bert tapped at his forehead as if engraving the information into brain.

“Right, tomorrow night at 7, downtown, and- oh…are you leaving?” He turned towards her, following her to the door where it became harder for Reiner to hear them. He could only pick up certain words now and he felt his guilt about eavesdropping quickly outweighing his curiosity. In fact, he was just about to turn away when he saw Bert take the flowers up from the table and offer them to Annie. She stared at them, shook her head a little, and motioned towards the table. They were nice but they would be better off here.

Bert was shaken. He hesitated before setting the vase back on the table and plucking a single lily from the bunch. He reached out slowly, cautiously, as if asking permission before he could tuck the lone flower behind one of Annie’s ears. Reiner leaned back, staring down at the bag in his hands and feeling as though he were trespassing. He’d certainly gone too far with his curiosity here and it made him uneasy. He shook his head, hearing the door close out in the apartment and finally shifting his aching legs so he might stand. With the woman gone, silence spread through the apartment once more though whatever sense of homey-ness he’d picked up on before seemed to have disappeared.

It took a while for Reiner to get back into the swing of things and even after he did he couldn’t quite shake his unease. Clean up didn’t take long and by the time he’d packed up his tools and replaced the pots under the leak it was far later than he had intended to stay. The noises from the neighboring unit had quieted and whatever light filtered through the heavy drapes on the window had long since disappeared in the evening gloom and shroud of rain. He propped his ladder against the wall beside his tools and wiped his hands on his jeans before fishing for the phone in his pocket. The phone’s screen cast an eerie light that glinted on the smiling faces trapped within the glass of picture frames lining the hall when Reiner made his way out of the room. He did his best not to look at the photos for too long since he figured he’d done enough snooping.

Reiner eyed the time, after 9 pm already, and ignored the various text messages he’d received from both Connie and Jean before shoving the phone back in his pocket. He stepped towards the living room and hovered awkwardly a moment, spotting Bertholdt perched on the too small couch and staring out the window that glowed yellow from a streetlight outside. Rain could be seen streaming down the glass and the sound of its light patter drifted in through the cracked window, the occasional whistling gust prompting sighs from the nervous giant. Reiner cleared his throat politely and shoved his hands deep in his pockets, watching Bert jump slightly and wheel around to look at him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I…I wasn’t paying attention.” Bertholdt shook his head and rose to his feet, making a show of sorting through papers and organizing his work.

“Hey, not a problem.” Reiner offered, watching him a moment before glancing at the window. “I finished tearing down most of the ruined plastered from the ceiling and saw that it was getting pretty late. Didn’t mean to impose on you for so long.” He said, rocking on his heels. “So I’ll be heading out. I plan on coming by in the evenings to work on this, though, hopefully that isn’t a problem?” He looked back at Bertholdt who had stopped his fidgeting long enough to listen to Reiner speak.

“Evenings shouldn’t be a problem, ah, though I work late some days and also I have plans tomorrow…” he nodded to himself, mentally reaffirming the plans Annie had thrust on him.

Reiner did his best not to frown. “Right, I understand. Your landlady suggested giving me an extra key if that is all right with you. Just for when I’m working on your room, of course. And I’m leaving a few things in there so I don’t have to lug them up those hellish stairs.” He said, huffing at the very thought of his battle with the loose carpet earlier.

Bertholdt nodded and actually smiled at the mention of the treacherous staircase. “I don’t blame you. That sounds fine to me. So long as my door stays locked when you leave and all of that.” He glanced down at the papers in his hands, trying to smooth out a bent corner on one of the pages. Reiner watched his fidgeting fingers and smiled.

“Of course. I’ll keep everything clean and locked. I am a professional, believe it or not.” He laughed and was glad to hear Bert chuckle too. “Anyway, I’ll be leaving now, so you have a good night.” He said and turned on his heel to head for the door. He hadn’t even managed to turn the knob before Bert stopped him.

“Oh, uh, wait a minute.” Bert dropped the papers on the couch and shuffled over to the kitchen table in a sudden fit of courage. He dragged the vase across the table, staring at the lilies a few moments before casting Reiner a glance. “I bought these flowers but….um, well I think they’ll go to waste here since I’m not really around all that much during the day so I wonder if you might want them? For the office, I mean. A secretary maybe?” he offered, frowning as he realized how odd the request might seem to someone he had only met a matter of hours before.

Reiner looked from Bertholdt to the flowers and back again in mild confusion, unsure of his intentions until he thought back to Annie’s refusal of the bouquet. Reiner drummed his fingers on the doorknob thoughtfully, feeling a bit odd accepting the flowers but also feeling somehow obligated to help. “Well, I do have a secretary, actually. She’s pregnant at the moment though so she’s taking a maternity leave…”

Bertholdt stared down at the flowers intently; color climbing up his neck with what Reiner could only imagine was some kind of embarrassment.

“Oh, I see, well it was just a thought. Anyway, sorry, that seemed like an odd request for me to make.”

“Not at all.” Reiner let his hand drop from the door knob and rubbed at the back of his neck. “Her husband works for me though. Hey, I could take those flowers off your hands if you want me to and I can have Connie give em to his wife. What do you think about that?” This was certainly…different. Reiner arched a brow as Bertholdt considered his offer and nodded gratefully.

“That sounds great, actually. Here, let me…um…” Bertholdt looked around a moment before stepping into the kitchen to search through his drawers. When he returned he held rubber bands and a plastic grocery bag. He looked from the rubber bands to the flowers and back helplessly and Reiner smiled.

“Here, I’ll hold them and you rubber band them.” He offered, stepping closer and gathering the lilies out of the vase in a big pink and white bundle. From where he stood Reiner got a better appreciation of just how tall this man was. Tall and sweating profusely. Reiner knew it was rude to find that funny but it was difficult not to. This man was tall and lengthy and skittish as all hell. He was definitely the last thing Reiner had expected when he stepped into this grungy apartment building.

Bertholdt seemed a little anxious about their proximity but quickly got over it, reaching out to bind the flowers together before nestling them in the plastic bag so the flowers stuck out the top. He banded the bag on as well and smiled at the resulting bouquet. “There. They really are quite pretty.” He said, his voice low, quiet and surprisingly soft. Reiner glanced up at him and flashed a smile.

“Yeah, they are. You know, I’ve certainly been thanked for my hard work and all of that but this is the first time I’ve ever received flowers.” He teased, laughing and hefting the flowers in his hands.

Bertholdt flushed a little darker at Reiner’s joke but seemed to relax when Reiner didn’t seem bothered by his offer. “I suppose anything is possible.” He said and smiled at the oddly effeminate bouquet in the hands of the thick construction worker.

Reiner pondered those words. “That’s an interesting way of putting it but, you know, I guess you’re right. Anyway, thanks for the flowers I guess. I’ll be sure to hand these over to Sasha. I know she’ll appreciate them while she’s stuck at home.” Reiner reached out without thinking and clasped Bert’s shoulder. “That’s awfully kind of you, Bertl. If you don’t mind me calling you that, that is. Now I really should get going.”

Bert jumped a little at the sudden contact but didn’t shrug him off, smiling instead and muttering some bashful response. “Bertl? Uh…well I suppose I don’t really mind. Oh, Right. It’s late and I’m sure you have a drive ahead of you. Um, thanks again for stopping by so quickly and uh, I guess, drive safe.” He offered awkwardly, his words tumbling out a little too quickly in his nervousness. Reiner opened the door and waved at him over his shoulder as he stepped out.

“Sure thing, it’s not a problem. Be seein ya.” Reiner turned away, flowers-in-hand, and as he heard Bert close the door behind him he wondered at how peculiar his day had turned out. He tripped along the hallway and clung to the railing when he stepped down the stairs, caught up in wondering about the interesting professor in the dilapidated apartment and a woman with scorn in her eyes. Things had certainly taken an odd twist and Reiner wasn’t really sure it was a positive one. Nothing good came from getting mixed up in other people’s affairs and he had gotten a little too close to the fire in that regard with his eavesdropping. Oh well. He was only human.

He stepped out of the apartment building at long last, for once grateful for the cool, misty air that welcomed him in the flickering light of the door lamp. He peeked out at the dark wet street and fished in his pocket for his keys, cursing when he dropped them down the porch steps. He grumbled to himself, taking the steps and crouching to scoop them up out of some grimy puddle when he noticed something on the ground near the curb. He shook his keys, wiping them on his jeans absently as he stepped closer to observe the single displaced lily drowning in an unpleasant mix of water and gunk that washed down the slanted sidewalk in rivulets. He stared at the flower a long while, the rain drenching his blond hair and splattering loudly on the bagged bouquet in his hands.

Reiner didn’t want the flower, and reminded himself again that getting mixed up in other people’s business was not a good idea and yet he could only imagine how disappointing it would be for Bert to step out of the building to go to work the next morning and find the flower on the ground. It was just another flower. Reiner had already accepted a bouquet so why would it be such a big deal to pick up one more? He looked around as if wary of someone seeing him before leaning down to scoop up the wet bloom. He held it in his hand as he unlocked his van and carefully nestled the bouquet in the passenger seat and didn’t let go until he had settled down behind the wheel. The whole situation baffled him and he set the lily on his dash, content to just let it go and forget all about it. It was just a job and, he decided, the sooner he finished it, the better.

Reiner grumbled to himself about wanting a smoke and started the van with a great rumbling of the engine and the eager swiping of the wipers. It had been a long, odd day and he was just ready to go home, though it seemed tomorrow wasn’t likely to be much better. _So much for optimism_ , he thought.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I FINALLY finished chapter two. Holy cow. Talk about a struggle! It's super rough at this point and the ending especially needs some polishing so bear with me as I work on it here and there. I just wanted to post it because, you know, I'm impatient.  
> Thanks a bunch for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Just writing this for funsies so it's not perfect. Chapters might end up being drastically different lengths. I might have a JeanMarco addition to this later but for now I want to focus on Bertholdt. Some later chapters will be NSFW. And since I'm pretty much making this up as I go I'll probs have to go back and edit tags. Yoo~


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